


Gateway to the soul

by motherwolf911



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom, Horror story - Fandom, Marble Hornets
Genre: Implied paedophilia, Mention of Slender man, Mind Games, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Perversion, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 11:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1897683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherwolf911/pseuds/motherwolf911
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They say the eyes are the gateway to one's soul..."<br/>Just a short horror story I thought up a while ago, and decided to finally share. I'm considering posting it to the Creepypasta wiki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gateway to the soul

We all have guilty pleasures in life. Be it a movie we'd never admit to enjoying, a book you wouldn't let your mom know you own, or even a specific part of another person's body we secretly enjoy... we've all got them. However, there are people in this world with slightly... darker, guilty pleasures to their names. People whom fantasize and have a proverbial hard on for what most of us would ascertain as unthinkable. There are people who are quite simply, for lack of a better word, sick. Disgusting in some cases. People who should be taken away and given some form of therapy for what they imagine and dream of doing... However, would the real monsters not be the ones which actually go through with it.

 Father Raye was the pastor of one of the most well renowned churches of his area for many, many long years. And it definitely showed. He was an older man, balding with age and growing steadily in weight, however aside from not being the most aesthetically pleasing man to grace the earth, Father Raye also had his own sick... guilty pleasure. Which is exactly where the young man came into play.

"There was a mix up at the home, your grace..." Father Raye's assistant spoke apologetically, his tone hushed as they walked from one end of the grand hall to the other, his face a mask of faint worry. "I'm afraid to say he is slightly... older, than your usual guests." Father Raye listened to the words in a relaxed silence, his arms crossed behind his back, his hands joined, gaze set to the floor.

"Well goodness... I'd hope he's not... too old." The pastor replied smoothly, looking toward the slightly younger man, whom shook his head faintly.

"That would be for your grace to decide."

The boy, or rather, the young man was considerably short, almost wiry in a way with his underweight body and thin limbs. His actual appearance, however, lacked any form of normality one could name. His hair was short, styled in an undercut, and seemingly fell naturally straight, a gene most teenage girls in a scene phase would happily murder him for. His skin was not so much pale, as it was a cool, ivory tone, which worked to bring out the colour of his visible eye which... could have been an extremely pale blue, but was somewhat caught with a hint of grey, which gave the young man an almost intimidating appearance. Had it not been for his meagre height, of course. His right eye was covered by a worn out, medical eye patch, which didn't really seem to fit correctly with his otherwise youthful appearance.

It was mere moments after witnessing the features of the young man's face that Father Raye decided his age would not be a problem in the slightest. Never before had such an unusual creature graced his presence... The uncovered eye watched the pastor as he shared a few words with the other man, closed the door, and turned to face him, hands clasped in front of himself. "Well... I apologise for the wait." Father Raye spoke with a... seemingly humble smile, though it faltered slightly when he got no reply, that one, steely, sharp eye watching him in untouched silence. Almost like it was probing him. Cutting into him... It didn't take long for the elder of the two to become slightly uncomfortable, coughing slightly before fixating his gaze on the young man, starting toward him. "No need to be nervous... We'll have fun, I promise."

As he said this, he unclasped his hands to rest them tenderly on each of the shorter male's shoulders, tipping his head down to look at his face up close. He wore little expression, brow and mouth set into a straight line which conveyed no more than an... extremely unimpressed vibe. The total lack of... well, anything really almost angered Father Raye, and he gripped the boys shoulders slightly tighter, before giving him a shake. "You hearing me, boy?" He demanded, his voice raising an embarrassingly pitched octave which only drew a meagre reaction, the boys eyebrows raising slightly, his head nodding. The pastor, having forgotten his usual game of trying to earn the trust of his 'guests' smiled smugly, almost a smirk, toward the male, releasing his shoulders in favour of walking in a slow circle around him, a hand brushing the small of the young man's back lightly as he did so.

"My tastes do not usually lie with boys of your age, but you... you are an exception." 

An unwanted shiver passed down his spine as the pastor spoke close to his neck, before his waist was gripped and pushed to the side forcefully, the younger man thrown onto his back unceremoniously against the over-sized, tacky silk sheeted bed, the mattress groaning with his weight. He attempted to rise, but was forced onto his back once more by the pastor's weight bearing down on him, a hiss finally rising from the young man's throat as the wind was knocked from his lungs, legs scrambling beneath the body that weighed his own down. "Calm. Down." The pastor growled, gathering a handful of his shirt as he tried to subdue the boy, soon grinning when he was pinned under his weight, chest rising and falling sharply. 

The hand gripping his shirt gave a rough pull sideways, sending the buttons lining the centre popping off in each and every direction with a sharp tearing sound. The eyes of the pastor bore down, however were pulled to the torso of the boy, frowning. An... oddly shaped scar blemished his midsection, a crudely carved circle with two lines in an 'X' formation crossing through it. He frowned slightly at this with a grimace, but chose rather to ignore it and get back to his plans.

"Now..." The word came out like a dark growl as Father Raye lifted a hand toward his face... his eye patch. He only got a chance to grip the edge and begin lifting, before there was a sudden stabbing pain in the left side his neck. He gave a startled, choked sound as he attempted to turn his head, only to feel a boot connecting with his lower jaw, the young man having gotten one of his legs free in his moment of clarity. He tipped backwards off the bed with a yell, landing on his back and giving a pained moan. He felt around his neck weakly, shocked to feel what felt like... a syringe embedded in his skin, attempting to pull it out, but his hands were suddenly too shaky to do anything, his entire body going cold, numb, from whatever drug was circling his veins. He attempted to speak, looking up rigidly as the male rose from the bed, nonchalantly straightening his clothing where it had been pulled and wrinkled. "Wh-wha... What... Who a-ar..." he could only manage choked whispers at this point, his bones stiff and jaws clattering together as he tried to form words. 

A small sigh was the single, faint sound that left the other man as he got up, crouching to the floor and pulling up the edge of the bedclothes, sliding a grey duffel bag from the darkness. The pastor lay still, immobile, paralysed and shuddering as he watched, the zip slid around and the top flipped open. Another sigh left the male's lips as he fumbled through the bag, before removing his hands, stretching on a pair of black latex gloves, before turning his head.

"Well... this has been fun."

The voice that left the frail body was... far past the maturity it should have been. This... seemingly young boy had the voice of a well matured man... The pastor paled at the mere sound, watching as several instruments were extracted from the bag and set in a straight line upon the wrinkled sheets, glinting slightly in the rosy glow of the ceiling light. 

"Really.. it has been fun." The young... The man repeated drearily, before he turned and faced the now shaking 'man of God' his eyebrows rising faintly. He took a single step forward, but Father Raye tried to recoil in terror, only able to moan loudly now as his jaws had locked, and his recoil resulted in little more than a slight shift. Soon, the man was towering over him, the tiniest of smiles curving the corner of his lips as he snapped the wrist of a glove against his skin, before raising a hand... and slowly sliding the eye patch upward and away from his face. 

"No need to be nervous... We'll have fun, I promise."

 

* * *

 

The effects of the drug Father Raye had been given wore off more than two hours before his assistant found him. Even so... the Pastor was unable to utter a word. He shivered madly as an ambulance arrived to take him to hospital, mumbling softly and shaking his head when anyone tried to speak to him. As they sat in the back of the ambulance his assistant, having accompanied him, leant across to him and whispered. "Your grace, pardon my timing but... what happened to the boy?" 

The pastor, eyes wide and pale, slowly turned, and looked at his friend. He was silent for a long moment, then whispered; "They say... eyes are the gateway to one's soul... don't they?" His assistant merely nodded, and the pastor copied the action, turning to stare blankly at the back of the ambulance once more. 

Father Raye was committed to the countries most successful institution to begin extensive therapy no more than two weeks after. He was there for eleven days before committing suicide.


End file.
